Harald was silent, the thin soles of his boots crunching on rocks. He sighed abruptly. “I do not think I am a born warrior, Gudbrand. I can fight, it’s true. But all I want is peace and quiet and a good plot of land. Someplace where my mother can be safe, where my sisters can wed safely. And a wife and children for myself.”
Even with one eye, Gudbrand’s glance was keen, as if he saw more than Harald was willing to say. “Gold can buy all those things, boy. One successful raid, and you’ll never need to sail again. You’ll come home with coin in your purse and a reputation no man can take away from you. Not even Ulf Half-Staff.” He looked at Harald through a half-lidded eye.
“That whoreson.” Diverted, he found himself glaring at Ulf’s longhouse. A group of drunken thanes milled around the do
